Wait for Me
by cmr2014
Summary: Vash only needed Meryl to do two things - love him, and wait for him.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sometimes it still feels like it was yesterday that the woman I called my angel became an angel. For the first one to make me smile - wait for me.

**Wait for Me**

Meryl Stryfe's heart was breaking, listening to the tormented screams on the other side of the door. Screams she could have prevented, if only she had stayed away.

After fighting herself for what felt like such a long time, she had heeded Milly Thompson's advice and followed after Vash to the town of L-R. Followed the man that she finally admitted to herself she was in love with.

It hadn't been pretty. Even if she hadn't followed, things would have ended the same. Innocent people would still have been held hostage by Legato Bluesummers, captive to his mind control. The only way to save them would still have been to kill him. Nothing would have changed if she and Milly hadn't followed.

Except Vash wouldn't have seen her. Wouldn't have held her eyes right before pulling the trigger. She wouldn't have seen how much it hurt him to actually take a life. The man she loved died inside with a single squeeze of the trigger.

Seeing what it cost him to kill Legato, Meryl knew she would take it upon herself to bring him back. Not just from his injuries of that day, but from whatever personal hell he was lost in.

She _had_ to. Because rational or not, she carried the blame for his willingly sentencing himself to a personal damnation.

So she stayed. Couldn't take being in the room with him while he relived his horror over and over again, but neither would she completely flee. Half of her wanted to burst in and bury herself in his pain, so he would know he didn't have to stand it alone; half of her wanted to run away, as far away as she could, because all she had brought him was the pain of taking a life and the loss of the woman he set his standards by. The voice of Rem Saverem no longer spoke to Vash.

Meryl chose the middle ground, neither going to him nor escaping. She stood her self-appointed post at the door and waited for a pause in his storm. There was always a pause, a point at which he exhausted himself and fell more into unconsciousness than sleep. Then she would go in and tend to him, changing his bandages and making fresh food and whispering soothing things in his ear in the hope that they would penetrate the guilt he felt.

Vash's screams subsided. Meryl waited a few moments more, then gathered herself and quietly went in. He was unconscious again. She checked his bandages, assuring herself they did not yet need to be changed. The stew she had left on a tray at his bedside was cold and untouched, reminding her yet again of his steadfast refusal to eat, no matter how often she tried. She sighed in resignation and took it back to its pot at the house's tiny stove in its tiny kitchen.

Went and pulled a chair over to his bedside. There was a Bible in the nightstand, presumably left from the previous occupants. When she could not think of anything to say to him, she would pull it out and look for inspirational things to read to him. Even things that seemed useless for this situation, she would try to tie back to Vash.

"We finished yesterday with Noah and the end of the flood," Meryl said softly. "So much destruction, yet look at all the good that came from it. You see, Vash, good things really can come from bad things. I wish I could get you to understand that."

No response, although she had not expected one. Cleared her throat and continued. "I think we'll cover Psalm Ninety-one today. You need that one especially."

Meryl read the psalm to him. As she finished, it felt like something tugged at her spirit. Looking at his unconscious form, she wondered if she should. A moment's internal debate, and then her decision was made. She read the psalm again, a little more force in her voice this time, like it was a prayer over Vash.

When she finished, she added her own solemn promise, clutching his hand. "I won't abandon you."

Gasped as his hand clutched hers back. Had he awoken?

His head moved back and forth restlessly. No, he was not awake, just dreaming. Meryl hoped the dreams were more pleasant than the memories.

She leaned in to hear what he was muttering, over and over like a chant.

"Wait for me," he mumbled. "Wait for me."

Who was he talking to? Her? Rem? Somebody else? It did not matter; she held his hand tighter and gave him the answer he needed. "I will."

Vash stilled with her words as though he heard, body relaxing and head lolling, yet still he held onto her hand. His breathing steadied once more as the words sighed out of him one last time.

"Wait for me."


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Damn, it was hot.

Vash had forgotten just how hot it could get. Already, he was missing his heat-resistant coat.

But it was back there. He could no longer wear the reminder of Rem, any more than he could build his life around her anymore. Vash the Stampede had found out that even he could not avoid taking a life forever; with the action of killing Legato, her voice had left him.

It wasn't Rem Saverem who had pulled him out of his despair; it was Meryl Stryfe. The words were what Rem would have said, but it was Meryl who spoke them. It was Meryl who wouldn't give up on him. Meryl who put her life on the line for his.

Maybe he shouldn't have cast aside the coat she had spent hours repairing. She was going to be pissed about that.

It didn't matter. Better to be present for her short-lived wrath, than to miss altogether the joy that would follow.

He shifted the load on his shoulders for some better weight distribution.

"We need to have a talk about your diet when we get there," he grunted. Still unconscious after their hellacious fight, Knives understandably offered no response.

Slowly, distance was consumed. Someone had once said that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Vash didn't know whether a mile was the same distance as an ile, or if it was closer to a kilometer, or different from both. He only knew he had taken many steps now, with many still to take.

He didn't look back. Dimitri was far behind them, days back there. Had it been a week yet? He was starting to lose count, his awareness of time boiling down from days to hours to less than hours. It was down to minutes right now, so monotonous and wearying was this trek.

It felt like a long time ago, when he had first picked up his brother on his shoulders. He had known it would be rough going, but just wasn't ready for it to be so hot. Might have had more water left at this point, if he weren't carrying Knives. But if he weren't carrying Knives, he wouldn't be out here in the first place. But if he hadn't made the trip, he wouldn't have been able to refill before setting back out. You can't run out of water unless you have water to run out of. Except if you don't have it, haven't you run out of it? On the other hand –

Vash shook his head and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Now wasn't the time to let himself get loopy. Shifted the weight of Knives again.

"Heavy?" he muttered. "He ain't heavy; he's my brother.

"Ok, so he's my heavy brother."

At night, he set Knives down and slept, too exhausted to make camp or even lay out a bedroll. It was often said that it was better to move at night than during the day, which made sense if one could have a tent or some other shelter from the sun while they slept. With no tent or shade, the best option was just to move during the heat of the day. Better that than risking the sun damage that came from just lying there. A few people had tried it that way and found themselves with damaged eyes. The dual sunlight was strong enough to cause harm even through eyelids, if the exposure was long enough.

As if that weren't enough, some of Gunsmoke's more dangerous predators hunted during the day, and it is always a pleasant surprise to find lunch just lying there waiting for you. Staying still in the daytime without shelter and protection was just asking for trouble.

Better to sleep at night, move during the day. Sleep with the moon. Move with the sun. Rinse and repeat. Lift leg. Move it forward. Put it down. Repeat with other leg. Left. Right. Left. Right. Pick them up and put them down.

How many steps had he taken now? How many were left?

If only he weren't so damn hot!

He was just tired, was all. Just needed to rest, to cool down. He was hot because his head was all the way up here, so close to the sun. It would be cooler down there, where the sand was…

Vash collapsed to the ground.

Too hot. Too tired. Too thirsty. Too weak. Too everything, with an extra dose of too heavy because of Knives laying on top of him. Darkness beckoned to him.

This was where the story of Vash the Stampede ended. The darkness claimed him. Sorry, Meryl.

_Meryl._

She was back there, in that little village. He had promised her he would come back. After so long alive, he had finally found a woman who could measure up to the standard Rem set, and he had promised her he would come back to her.

The darkness ebbed away as he fought against it.

Systems check. Mind working. Internal organs functioning. Muscular strength depleted. Body immobile.

Unacceptable. The body does what the mind tells it to do. Body, move!

One finger twitched.

Engage override. Force the body to move, if need be. Push it past its breaking points, if need be.

Fuel tanks empty. Switching to Willpower.

_I'm coming for you, Meryl. _

Fingers twitched. Then wiggled. Then moved. A hand moved. An arm. Both arms.

_Come on, now. What's the point of all those damned workouts if I can't even stand up? GET UP!_

Over the course of what felt like (and may very well have been) at least half an hour, Vash forced himself into a kneeling position, balancing Knives on his shoulders, then rose to his knees. Finally, the ultimate triumph – he was once again standing, carrying his brother.

The journey resumed. One step after another. Vash's lips moved in cadence with his steps, uttering over and over a prayer to the woman he was coming back to.

"Wait for me."


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Vash still talked to Rem, even if she no longer talked to him. It was important to not forget her. It was not just either Rem or Meryl in his life; it was both of them. The woman who had raised him, and the woman he would spend as much of his long life with as he could.

He liked to head up on top of a nice flat rock formation just outside the little village he had come to call home. Being out in the open and a little closer to the stars made him feel like it was easier for Rem to see him from wherever she was. Made it a little easier to believe she had not completely left him.

"You'd like her," he said of Meryl to the night sky, picturing Rem's smiling face superimposed over everything. "She's smart, and tough, and fun when she lets herself be. Whoever said beauty is skin deep never met Meryl; her beauty starts inside and shines out. I wish you could meet her."

He took in the entire view and let himself be at peace for once. It was all there – Rem, the stars, the moons. Having come back to Meryl, he could even look at the fifth moon without feeling his heart weighed down.

Ears twitched, but it was ok. The footsteps were light and soft, but purposeful. He recognized them. Stayed still as Meryl approached and sat down next to him.

"You come here a lot," she commented.

"That I do. Been keeping track of me?"

Her mouth quirked, spread into a smile. "It _is_ my job. It's nice out here." Said as she looked at the wide open expanse, silver orbs illuminating everything in their pale light.

"It is nice," Vash agreed.

"It doesn't have to be, you know."

"Nice?"

Her small head shake ruffled her hair a bit. "My job. Do you remember when I said you could stay if you wanted?"

"I do. And I do."

Their eyes made contact.

"You do?"

"I do. If it's ok with you."

"It is," she said quietly. "And that's what I mean. About the job."

Meryl looked away quietly, shyly. Afraid she was messing it up. It was such a simple thing she was trying to say, but there were so many ways to mess it up.

She felt two fingers against her cheek, just a gentle pressure. Not pushing, just guiding her face back to his.

"What about the job?"

Now or never. "If you stay…I could stay."

"You mean quit?"

Her nod was hesitant at first, then firm. "Yes."

His fingers were still on her cheek. Now they traced her profile, floating across her jawline.

"I won't make you quit," he told her. "That's your choice. But I do like the idea of being more than just a job to you."

"You are," Meryl breathed as Vash leaned down to brush his lips against hers in a chaste kiss that quickly lost its chastity.

They spent a while holding each other in front of the desert and sky, before Meryl jerked upright with a gasp. "Oh!"

"Yes?" Vash asked with a bemused smile.

"I forgot the other part of why I came to talk to you," she explained. "There's – well, there's a dance going on back in town and I thought – maybe…"

His hand rested atop her twiddling thumbs. "You thought we could go together?"

"Well…yeah. But it's ok," she said hurriedly, "it'll probably be over by the time we get there, anyway."

His hand went from her thumbs to brush back some hair from her eyes. "You don't need a crowd to dance. Just the two of us."

"It would be nice for everyone to see us, though. It would be like we're – well…"

"Official?"

Meryl's blush was obvious even in the desert light. "Yes."

"I'd like that."

She took a moment to beam at him, then jumped up and took off running. "Well, come on! Let's go before we miss our chance!"

Vash picked himself up and gave chase. His image of Rem smiled down on them as he called after Meryl.

"Wait for me!"


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

"Meryl Stryfe…will you marry me?"

Vash's reflection in the full-length mirror stared back at him as he thought about this approach.

"No," he said worriedly as he stood up and paced. "Everybody does that. This is Meryl we're talking about – I need to give her a grand gesture. Fireworks in the sky. Hearts floating around. A whole line of Milly clones cheering us on with pom-poms. Something spectacular!"

_What you need is to shut up_, the thought floated to him. _You're acting even more asinine than usual._

"Be quiet!" he called to his brother in the other room. "This is important."

It was faint, but Vash picked up on a thought that Knives would no doubt claim he hadn't meant to leak out. "That's no way to talk about a lady! Don't let me catch you saying that out loud around her!"

One final snarky thought before Knives went back to reading his Machiavelli. "Come on, you know that's not even physically possible!"

What Vash needed was some fresh air to clear his head. That would help him think of an appropriate way to pop the question. Stepped out front with a beer to charge up the neurons and took a seat on a folding sports chair.

Man, he needed to stop doing projects out here. The little table next to his chair was crowded with screws and bolts and various implements. Sawdust and metal shavings littered the front deck surface.

Maybe that's what he should do, build a set or something. Or rig up some lights out here to set the mood. Maybe the fireworks thing wasn't a bad idea – New Year's was coming up fast, and he was sure enough of himself that he bet he could engineer a fireworks display that would ask the question for him. That was a pretty grand gesture, wasn't it?

He lost himself in thought as he thought of various scenarios, searching for the one that would be perfect for her.

Tires screeched and brakes squealed a little ways down the road. "Stupid bitch!'

"Stupid drunken moron!" Meryl yelled back. "Try driving sober and away from pedestrians!" Resumed her daily run from having jumped out of the imbecile driver's way. Already the New Year's partiers were in town wreaking havoc, and the event itself still wasn't for several days. Worse, it was only three o'clock in the afternoon; things would get much more hectic when the sun went down.

Her run took her right up to Vash, still lost in thought. What was he muttering about now? Whatever haze he was lost in, she planned to snap him out of it in a hurry. One bright spot of New Year's was her and Milly's friend and ex-coworker Karen was coming to visit, and Meryl fully planned to show off her boyfriend, object of both her aggravation and affection.

"Meryl Stryfe," he burst out, standing up and causing her to jump back, "will you marry me and be my insurance girl for life?" Sat down and shook his head. "No, she'll slap me for something that silly."

Meryl didn't know what stunned her more – the question, or that Vash was so wrapped up in thinking that he didn't even register her. At least she knew the answer to the question.

"Yes." It was one word, but suddenly her heart was trying to beat itself out of her chest with everything it carried. The promise of a life together, with someone she was so in love with that she was even happy when he drove her up a wall. There simply was no other answer.

Vash looked up, startled. "Who the – Meryl! Sorry, I didn't see you there," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Um…how long have you been here?"

Her grin was uncontainable. "Long enough to say yes."

"Yes? Yes to what?"' The color was draining from his face as he realized that his as-yet-unplanned surprise might have just been exposed.

"Yes, I'll marry you, you wonderful, broom-headed dimwit," she elaborated affectionately.

"What?! You – you can't say yes yet!" Head swiveled in panic. "I haven't asked properly! I haven't even gotten the ring yet!"

"We don't need a ring, darling," Meryl said tenderly, feeling inside like she was going to float away. "The fact that you asked is all I need, Vash."

Her proposer shook his head resolutely. "This has to be done right. If I can't give you the proposal you deserve, I can at least give you some semblance of it." He scanned around, selecting something from the mess on the table next to him. Stood up straight, then solemnly sank to one knee before her. Took her hand in his.

"Meryl Stryfe," Vash said earnestly, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, the woman I will love for as long as I live?" He was well aware of the possible implications of what he was promising, and making that promise anyway. It was a promise he knew he would keep.

"I will, Vash," Meryl breathed. "I absolutely will."

"I need to get a proper ring, but I hope this will do for now."

She looked at the O-ring he slid on her finger.

"It's beautiful." She meant it – the world might see an O-ring, but she saw his promise on her finger.

Eyes cleared as reality dawned. "Oh! There's so much to do! We have a whole wedding to plan! We'll need to get cover names set up – a wedding with everyone knowing who you are is bound to get shot up! We'll need to figure out who to invite – obviously Milly and Karen – and where to have the ceremony – and –" Her brain started to fly into overdrive.

Until Vash kissed her, removing everything from her mind that wasn't him.

"We'll work it out later. We have all the time in the world, insurance girl."

"We do." Meryl beamed. "I have to go find Milly and tell her. And Karen's coming in, and I _really_ want her to meet you now!" Gave him one last smile, then took off at a sprint.

Vash sat back down in the chair, a dazed smile on his face. It had happened. Maybe not the way it _should_ have happened, but it had happened.

And Meryl had said yes.

_As if there were any doubt._ Vash could practically hear Knives snort.

"I thought I taught you not to eavesdrop on people," Vash called into the house.

_It's not eavesdropping when your minds were shouting everything you felt. And for what it's worth – I still don't understand why you want to be like them, but I guess I can _try _to be happy for you._

Huh. Perhaps Vash really was getting through to his brother.

_Not bloody likely!_ Knives fumed, prompting a chuckle from Vash.

The sound of screeching tires came from down the road. Idiot partiers. While all for self-regulation, Vash couldn't help but think that maybe a law against drunk driving would be a good thing. After all, self-regulation only worked if people regulated themselves – it was kind of implied in the term. A law punishing drunk drivers might cut down on some of these near-accidents.

A commotion came from over that way, bringing people running, some with first aid kits. Damn it – maybe it wasn't such a _near_-accident, after all.

"Knives, stay out of trouble!" Vash called. "I'm going to go check this out."

Jogged down the road. A crowd was gathered around. It was hard to see what was going on, but it was pretty clear something bad had happened.

Snagged a bystander. "Anyone hurt?"

"One of those asshole drunks hit a lady! Bastards oughta –" Vash left him fuming and pushed inward.

His world crumbled as he caught a glimpse of the victim.

"Move! Move, damn it!" Shouldered people out of the way, panic growing inside. "_Goddamnit, move!_"

It wasn't too late, if he could just get to his fiancée. He was Vash the fricking Stampede – if he had the energy to put a hole in a moon, he could sure as hell channel that energy to heal her.

Damned if he was going to be helpless to save someone he loved again.

But he was. As he got through and knelt at Meryl's side to examine her, he could feel the extent of her injuries. Could feel where her ribs were broken. Could hear the blood gurgle as she breathed. Punctured lung.

He couldn't heal that. If there weren't a broken rib there, if it were just the hole by itself, then maybe. But not the way it was.

Vash was going to lose her.

_No!_ At the very least, he had to try. He put his hands over his fiancee's torso.

Someone, a doctor maybe, tried to intervene. He was speaking English, but Vash couldn't comprehend what he was saying. Already, his breath was coming in ragged, desperate gasps, and he shoved the man away, snarling. Returned to what he was doing.

"Work," he muttered, as he sent his energy into Meryl's body. "I can't lose Meryl, too. _Work, damn you!_" he commanded his own power.

It was no use. At most, he was just easing her pain; at worst, he was prolonging the inevitable. Vash could feel the futility of his efforts, yet he kept trying, willing a miracle to happen.

Meryl looked at him. Whispered something that was lost between the noise of the crowd and her lungs drowning in blood.

He leaned in closer so he could hear.

"It's ok," Meryl repeated, voice weak and gurgly. "You can let go."

Vash's tears fell on her face, running down her cheeks. "I can't! Damn it, Meryl, I _need_ you!"

"You'll always have me. It's not goodbye – just look for me when you get there."

One hand weakly clasped his.

"I will," he promised with all his heart. "I'll look for you. Know that I love you, Meryl Stryfe." Though she was fading far too fast, he could see in her eyes that she wanted him to know the same thing.

A soft kiss was all he had left to give his fiancée. That, and his last words to her.

"Wait for me."


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Time passed. As much as Vash felt it should not, the world moved on after Meryl Stryfe was not in it.

He hid under a grin, as he always had. There was no getting rid of the pain inside, so he would grin and bear it. Even if his real smile died with Meryl.

Days. Months. Years. Decades.

Milly died, after having lived her life the best she possibly could, in honor of Meryl. Vash hoped she and Wolfwood were together, as he continued to live without the woman he loved.

Centuries.

Knives reached the limit of his understanding of humans, and set out on his own to try to broaden it. Vash really _had_ gotten through to him. They went their separate ways, Knives trying to learn more and Vash content to just live his life and wait.

He went here and there, as he always had. Got in scrapes and got out of them. Met new people, made new friends.

Never loved anyone the way he had Meryl. Through it all, she remained his fiancée, the one he had pledged himself to.

Eventually there came a point – Millennia? Eons? He had lost track – where his time was up. One day, he felt the desert call to him, and he went. Clothes were found later, but no body. It seemed he had simply – disappeared. It was one more mystery in the life of Vash the Stampede.

Wherever he went to, she was there, ready for him.

"Took you long enough," Meryl said. It was something he felt rather than heard; not like Knives' telepathy, something deeper. Like they were part of the same whole.

Vash was overjoyed to be with her again. He felt closer to her than ever before.

"Everyone's been expecting you."

"Everyone?"

She smiled, and he felt that, too. Words did not exist to describe how he felt here with Meryl. "Some you know and some you don't – I'll introduce you around. But first, we need to find Rem. She's been waiting for you, too." Took his hand.

"I'll go anywhere with you," Vash said as he followed her.

They could explore eternity, because they were finally together. No more waiting.


End file.
